Transfer, Transform
by CozmicCreepers
Summary: A pre-reform!Dalton fic. Blaine is a good student, but his record card would have you believe different. How Blaine made the decision to live up to his rap sheet.


**Transfer, Transform.**

_Authors Note: This is a reform!Klaine fan fiction, of sorts - however it is both pre-Dalton and pre-Klaine. I thought somebody should try to address the reasons for Blaine's transformation from dapper gentleman to total badass. This is un-betaed. It's also the first thing I've written. Please feel free to review and tell me how to improve my writing; I think I am often repetitive and also a little florid. I'm a scouser, so writing Jake and his friends was very difficult; they kept slipping into chav-talk and I had to try and make them sound more American. Also, the teacher was not given a name purposefully – I wished him to represent the faculty as a whole, so I gave him very few defining features, no name, no description, just an unusual love for paperwork._

_The main ideas I was trying to convey in this story are the closeness between Blaine and his father and how this is lost after Blaine comes out and also the idea that Blaine's confidence comes from being honest._

* * *

><p>"I think, Mr Anderson, the last time you were called into this office you were made aware that if Blaine was caught fighting again he'd be suspended." The administrator leant forward in his chair and readjusted the papers on the desk in front of him, shifting his focus from the stern man sat stiffly in a too small plastic chair and onto to the man's son. The boy was short, athletic looking and well dressed. He sat with good posture, though he kept his head down. His neat appearance was somewhat ruined by his unruly dark hair, which curled around his ears and over his forehead, and by the busted lip and evidence of bruises, both nearly healed and newly forming, on his young face. The boy, Blaine, risked a quick glance upwards.<br>"I wasn't…" A sharp intake of breath from his father caused his protest to die on his tongue. He returned to staring desolately at his shoelaces.  
>"Blaine wasn't responsible." Mr Andersons tone was polite, but held a note of impatience. "Just look at him, he didn't start this fight. Do you really think he starts any of them?"<br>"Several of his peers have confirmed, independently, I may add, that Blaine threw the first punch. John and Robert only stepped in to protect their friend. " Father turned to son, placing a hand on the boy's arm, causing him to look up again. They communicated without words; Blaine's eyes wide, innocent and pleading, his father's controlled, understanding. The older man squeezed his young boys arm reassuringly.  
>"Blaine did not start this fight." It was a statement of fact; he left no room for argument.<br>The teacher hesitated, his left hand reaching out to his paperwork and then pulling back slightly before continuing. He retrieved his schedule from underneath the top form (Pupil Disciplinary Record : Blaine Anderson).  
>"I am due to talk to Mrs McArthur and Jake straight after you. Perhaps we can discuss the issue together. This is hardly the first time both of your boys have been involved in such an incident." Mr Anderson offered a curt nod of assent "Excuse me, then" the man stood and left, leaving the door ajar. When he was out of earshot, Blaine's father turned to his son.<br>"Blaine, I need to know that you didn't throw the first punch."  
>"I don't think I even got a punch in. It was three against one, dad."<br>"I believe you."

The teacher returned with a tall, waspish woman and an equally tall young man who was carrying two extra chairs. He unstacked the chairs and placed them to Blaine's left, flashing a quick smirk at the smaller boy when the teacher wasn't looking. Mr Anderson stood as the teacher made brief introductions, sitting down only after the woman had perched on the edge of her chair.  
>The teacher walked around his desk to resume his former position.<br>"Now, we know that somebody" The teacher looked at both students, lingering a fraction longer on Jake "Isn't being honest here. Blaine and Jake both maintain that it was the other who started the fight. So I am going to ask both of you to explain exactly what happened. Jake, you first."  
>"He hit me, I hit him back, Jonno pushed him off me." Jake shrugged.<br>"And before he hit you?" Asked the teacher.  
>"Me, Roc and Jonno was just heading to Jonno's car after football practice and we bumped into Anderson. I was just asking him about his girlfriend and he totally lost it – "<br>"That's because you know she's not my girlfriend, you were making fun of me." Blaine interjected.  
>"I weren't. I thought you were going out, you're always following her around, her and <em>Alex<em>." Jake emphasised the name with a raising of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.  
>"Are you saying that you did lose your temper, Blaine?" Asked the teacher, turning back to Blaine.<br>"No. I mean, yeah, but I didn't try and punch him, I'm not stupid." Blaine said defensively.  
>"Well, if we can hear your side of the story." The teacher gestured for him to continue talking. Jake leaned back on his chair, the front legs coming off the ground slightly. Blaine addressed a spot three inches to the left of the teacher's left ear.<br>"I was on my way to the library, just taking back the sheet music we'd been using in choir practice. Jake and his friends - Robert and John – were just there."

~~~

Blaine hugged the papers to his chest, head down a/s he walked quickly toward the library. It was late, most of the pupils had long gone home but he knew football practice let out soon and he wanted to get this done and get out, as quickly as possible.  
>"Oi! Anderson. Where's your girlfriend?"<br>"What?" Blaine looked up and groaned inwardly, the three biggest, stupidest and most aggressive jocks in the school were approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.  
>"That fat ginger you're always following around." Answered Jake, the ring leader. He was tall and broad, with tanned skin, dark hair and dark eyes. He was smiling, unkindly. He seemed pleased with his description.<br>"Rahni isn't fat and she isn't my girlfriend." He attempted to sidestep around the three jocks, but between them they quite easily filled the corridor.  
>"No, Alex is more your type, isn't he?" Said Jake nastily.<br>"I'm not gay!" Blaine answered far too quickly, flushing scarlet. The jocks seemed to realise they has struck embarrassment gold. The tallest, Robert (aka the Roc) high fived Jake, laughing.  
>"Whatever, queer. Why don't you go find Alex and..." he made an obscene hand gesture, causing the other boys to snort and copy it.<br>"Fine. I'll go do that." Snapped Blaine, pushing past and walking away, then quickening his pace as he heard the footfalls of the three jocks jogging up behind him. He glanced behind him to the left and as he turned forwards again, walked into Roc, who had overtaken him on the right. Roc was almost as wide as he was tall, well muscled with very little neck. He pushed Blaine roughly, who stumbled. Blaine regained his footing in time to see Jake and Roc in front of him, with John right behind him.  
>"What was that, fag?" asked Jake, hands crossed casually, smirk firmly in place.<br>"Don't fucking call me that." Hissed Blaine. "Why don't you just leave me alone, what did I ever do to you?" He attempted to move past them and was slammed back into the lockers.  
>"We don't like <em>fags<em>." Replied Jake, drawing out the word, leaning in close, smirking all the time. Blaine just wanted to punch him right in his big smug face, his fists balled up automatically. He didn't get the chance, the first punch hit him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him, the second caught his jaw and he tasted blood as his lip split. He drew in a sharp, painful breath and launched himself at Jake, punching him square in the jaw. He felt a restraining arm around his waist and kicked back, connecting with somebody's shin. He heard John cry out in surprise.  
>"Anderson! McArthur! Daniels! Collins!" He was suddenly released at the sound of the teacher's voice. He fell to the ground, landing roughly, unable to keep balance.<p>

~~~

"He called Rhani a fat ginger. He called me a... queer and a fag. He backed me up against the lockers and then, he hit me, or Robert hit me, I don't know. They were _laughing_."  
>"That's Bull. He's lying. He hit me. Then Roc pushed him off me and he fell, he must have hit his jaw on the floor."<br>"That's quite enough" Interrupted Mrs McArthur. "Did you call him – did you use those words?" She was looking at her son sharply and Jake's eyes flashed with some emotion Blaine couldn't recognise. Then, he regained his composure, leaning back in his chair and smiling that smirk.  
>"You said gays are an abomination, it's in the bible. I just called him what he is, that's all. He's a fag."<br>Mr Anderson focused his glare onto the taller boy, who instinctively shrank back. "You insolent, ignorant thug. My son is not gay and there'd be nothing wrong with him, if he were!"  
>"Excuse me, don't talk to my Jake like that..." Began his mother.<br>"Yes I am." Blaine was still staring at his trainers. His voice, however, was strong. His father's head whipped around to look at his son.  
>"Blaine?"<br>"I'm gay, dad..." Blaine tried to focus on his father, ignoring the gasp of vicious delight and shock from Jake. Blaine looked up at his father, searching his eyes - had expected to see shock, hoped to see acceptance but his father was, for once, unreadable. "This... isn't how I wanted to tell you, I've been trying to for... I'm gay." He nodded, as if to confirm it to himself. Slowly, his posture relaxed, he sat up straight and looked straight at the teacher.  
>"They're bullying me because I'm gay."<br>"Well, now, I don't think..." The teacher was still shocked, at the admission and at being addressed directly by a boy who would usually only mumble at the floor "Jake wasn't aware, I'm sure he's not homophobic, we don't allow..." he glanced over at Jake, who wasn't quick enough to cover his smirk with a look of blank politeness "...perhaps we should..." He shuffled the papers on his desk, laying out three pages – the first two were similarly headed (Pupil Disciplinary Record: Blaine Anderson, Pupil Disciplinary Record: Jake McArthur) and the third resembled a flow chart. He scanned the third piece of paper, rallying his thoughts. "Ehem. Mrs McArthur, Mr Anderson, I do not think that suspending either of the boys would be in their best interests; however, this cannot go unpunished. Jake, this is by no means your first offense. I am assigning you with four weeks after school detention. You will report to Mr Cunningham after last period, tomorrow." Jake ground his teeth but said nothing, his mother was similarly quiet. "Blaine, I'm afraid detention simply won't do. You have already accrued seven weeks' detention due to previous offenses." He glanced down at the flow chart. "You will complete six weeks of your detentions; that will take us to the end of this semester. You will then be expected to complete one week of community service. It is my recommendation that next semester, you be transferred to Dalton Academy."  
>"The reform school?" Jake said, sitting up in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face. Blaine was barely paying attention; he was still trying to gauge his father's reaction. Mr Anderson was staring resolutely at the teacher, not looking at his son.<br>"That is an acceptable compromise." He stated, finally. Blaine gasped; he had expected his father to fight the teacher, at least on the transfer.  
>"Dad?" Began Blaine, but his father was already standing and gesturing to Jake's mother.<br>"Mrs McArthur, I'd like to talk to you in private, if that is alright."  
>His father wouldn't look at him.<p>

Blaine stood in the hallway; his father was in reception, in conversation with Mrs McArthur. Blaine had a shrewd idea what the exchange was about. Jake leaned idly against the hallway lockers, also waiting.  
>"Dalton Academy, eh?" Said Jake, he sounded pleased. Blaine ignored him. "They'll eat you alive, Anderson. Your dad might as well have signed your death warrant." Blaine could hear the smirk in his words, even though he kept his eyes trained on the door.<br>"My dad's going to convince your mom to force you not to say anything, about my being gay."  
>"Whatever, fag. I'm telling everyone." Pushing himself off the lockers, Jake reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone. Walking to block Blaine's view of the door, he waved the screen in Blaine's face – the facebook app was already open. "The whole school will know by tomorrow."<br>"Good. I'm done hiding and I'm done being beaten up. If I'm going to Dalton, then I'm going because I deserve to be there." With that, he turned and walked away. He wasn't going to wait for his father, any longer.


End file.
